The long, winding stone corridor was eerily silent, save for the echo of their footsteps and the occasional drip of water down the walls. The passage sloped downward, reminding Harry of Gringotts. His heart skipped a beat as he thought of the rumored dragons guarding the wizard bank's vaults. What if they encountered a fully grown dragon here? Norbert alone had been a challenge.
"Do you hear anything?" Ron whispered.
Harry tilted his head, listening carefully. Faint rustling and clinking noises could be heard ahead.
At the end of the corridor, they arrived at a brightly lit room with a high, vaulted ceiling. Hundreds of gem-like, shimmering birds flitted about, their wings glowing as they darted through the air. Across the room was a heavy wooden door.
"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross?" Ron asked.
"It's obvious," Augustus said, scanning the room. "The purpose of these little creatures will only be revealed if we attempt to cross."
Taking a deep breath, Harry shielded his face with his arm and dashed to the other side. He braced for sharp beaks or claws, but nothing happened. He reached the door unharmed and tugged at the handle—it was locked.
Augustus walked over with Ron and Hermione. Harry tugged and pushed the door again to no avail. Hermione attempted the Alohomora spell, but it had no effect.
"What now?" Ron asked.
"Didn't you notice?" Augustus said, gesturing upward. "These flying creatures aren't birds. They're keys. One of them unlocks this door."
Ron and Hermione tilted their heads to look at the swarming creatures above.
"But there are hundreds!" Ron exclaimed, inspecting the door's lock.
"We're looking for an antique key, likely silver and shaped like a doorknob," Harry suggested.
The trio grabbed nearby broomsticks and soared into the dense flock of keys, carefully searching. Meanwhile, Augustus activated his Eye of Insight, scanning the cloud of keys with precision. Within moments, he identified a large silver key with pale blue feathers, its wings drooping slightly as if it had been forcefully used before.
Pointing his silver wand, Augustus cast Mage Hand. An invisible force seized the weary key, which struggled briefly before being plucked from the air and handed to Augustus.
"This must be it," Harry said hesitantly.
"Try it and see," Augustus replied, sliding the key into the lock. With a twist, the lock clicked open. The key slipped free and flitted off, looking thoroughly battered from its ordeal.
"Ready?" Augustus placed a hand on the doorknob, glancing at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The trio nodded, and he pushed the door open.
The next room was pitch-black until, suddenly, torches flared to life, revealing a stunning sight. They stood before a colossal chessboard. Massive black pieces loomed ahead, their smooth stone surfaces glistening in the light. On the opposite side stood equally towering white pieces, their blank faces adding an eerie touch.
"What do we do now?" Harry asked quietly.
"Isn't it obvious?" Ron replied. "We have to play our way across."
They noticed a door beyond the white pieces.
"How do we play?" Hermione asked nervously.
"I think we need to become the pieces," Ron said.
"There's no need for that," Augustus said with a faint smile. Compared to the terrifying constructs in the mage towers of otherworldly realms, these enchanted chess pieces were merely decorative nuisances.
With a flick of his wand, a dark storm cloud began forming above the chessboard. The cloud expanded rapidly, engulfing the ceiling. Hailstones the size of fists began to fall, crashing onto the chessboard and shattering into icy shards. Frost crept across the board, connecting and solidifying into a glistening frozen expanse. Within moments, the entire room was transformed into a frozen landscape, the chess pieces encased in gleaming ice.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione stared in stunned silence at the icy scene. Words felt inadequate in this surreal, crystalline world.
"Well, that was easier," Ron muttered, rubbing his eyes as if to ensure he wasn't dreaming. For once, Hermione had no objections.
"Let's move on. Who knows what awaits us next," Augustus said, gesturing for them to follow. He led the way across the glassy surface toward the next door.
"What do you think we'll face next?" Harry asked, catching up.
"We've encountered Sprout's Devil's Snare, Flitwick's enchanted keys, and McGonagall's living chess pieces," Augustus replied. "That leaves Quirrell's challenge—and Snape's."
They reached another door.
"Ready?" Harry asked quietly.
"Go on," Augustus urged.
Harry pushed open the door. A nauseating stench hit them, making their eyes water and forcing them to cover their noses with their sleeves. Through blurred vision, they saw a troll larger than the one they had faced before lying unconscious on the floor. A bloody lump on its head hinted at a recent struggle.
"Good, we don't have to fight it," Harry whispered. They carefully stepped over the troll's enormous legs and hurried on.
"Let's move—this smell is unbearable," Ron said.
The next door led them into a room that, at first glance, seemed devoid of danger. In the center was a table with seven bottles, each filled with vividly colored liquid that shimmered with an alluring glow, as though they contained boundless magical power.
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